The Dog Date of Summer
by kimj721
Summary: Perhaps it wasn't just Lily who inspired Petunia's passionate hatred of the Wizarding World.


Olive green jacket dress. Magenta and mahogany plaid pantsuit. Grey blouse with reddish-brown leaves and matching maroon skirt. Little black cocktail dress, a gift from her mother the prior Christmas, never worn.

Each outfit was considered in turn, rejected, and returned to its previous spot in the closet. It was more color than the neutral-hued bedroom had seen at one time in years. Petunia Evans had always prided herself on a sensible wardrobe that suited any occasion, but today she was stumped. She felt like those girls on the telly who declared, "I haven't a thing to wear!"

She wondered what one of those girls would wear for a blind date with a wizard.

Ugh, _wizard_. Petunia closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the word reverberated in her head, regretting it immediately as the smell of her closet's mothballs crept up her nostrils. There were few activities less desirable for a summer afternoon than what she faced today.

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" she admonished herself. All of this thinking was only going to increase her dread. She reached into her closet, grabbed a blue flowered sundress, and pulled it on over her head. She walked over to her second-story window and opened it to better gauge the temperature outside. It was sunny but surprisingly cool in Cokeworth, so she added a cream-colored shawl to her ensemble.

There was a gentle knock at her door. "May I come in?" asked a woman.

Petunia sighed. "Yes, Mum."

Mrs. Evans nudged her way inside, carrying a steaming teacup. "I thought you might be nervous, so I brought you some chamomile."

"I'm not _nervous_ ," Petunia retorted. "I am cheesed off that you and Dad are making me go through with this farce."

Her mother placed the tea on the nightstand, sat down on the end of Petunia's bed, and patted the spot closest to the drink. "Come on, dear, sit with me for a moment."

Petunia plopped down as indicated, but folded her arms and gave her mother a cross look.

"We're not _forcing_ you to do this, dear," Mrs. Evans began. "We are just asking that you meet this chap and give him a fair chance."

"A chance for him to point his wand at me and make me cluck like a chicken," Petunia muttered.

"Now, now," her mother chided. "Lily has explained that as students, they aren't allowed to use magic outside of school grounds."

Petunia took a sip of the belly-warming beverage in lieu of rolling her eyes. It was entirely possible that her younger sister had shared that fact with their family, but Petunia had long ago learned to tune out any discussion regarding Lily's world of tricksters and illusionists.

"I don't think Lily has asked you for a single favor since she went away to school," Mrs. Evans continued. "You two used to be so close, and she's reaching out to you to try to bridge the gap."

"I wish she had found a way to bridge it without using a disgusting bird," Petunia remarked with more than a hint of petulance.

"Other than a foul fowl?" her mother offered with a wink. Petunia sniffed the herbal vapors from her drink, ignoring the pun. "Using owls as messengers is just their version of the post, dear. And the school's owls are probably cleaner than my kitchen sink most of the time."

"If Lily is so eager for this sisterly bonding or what have you," Petunia huffed, "why is she pawning me off on some compatriot of hers?"

"You read the letter when it arrived last week," Mrs. Evans responded. When Petunia gave her mother a withering glance, she added, "Well, I read it to you when you refused to touch the parchment. She explained that he is estranged from his family in the magical world, and is spending the summer up at the school to avoid them. Lily wrote that she wanted to introduce him to the non-magical world, and she thought that you might be a good ambassador."

Mrs. Evans stood up and brushed non-existent lint off of her slacks. "I'll let you finish getting ready, honey," she said as she walked into the hallway. "Just please try to keep an open mind. It's one afternoon, you can spare that much for your sister. Also," she said with a gleam in her eye, "remember his name is Sirius, and he might end up as your _serious_ crush!"

As was her wont, Petunia ignored her mother's horrible pun. "Thanks for the tea," she replied without humor as her mother closed the bedroom door and returned to the first floor.

She swallowed the last of the cooling chamomile, then placed the teacup back on her nightstand with a long sigh. It _was_ only one afternoon, and while it was a lot to ask, it would put her sister in her debt. Besides, this poor chap had spent his entire life surrounded by unstable, fanciful types. If he was looking for something better and more sensible, she really shouldn't hold his heritage against him.

From the direction of her open window, Petunia heard some faint conversation, including some nonsense that sounded like, " _accio_ handkerchief!" The words didn't make sense but the voice sounded like Lily's. She walked to the window and looked down the hill toward the Snape family's sad little shack at Spinner's End. Sure enough, two figures were walking in her direction. The first was clearly her sister, clad in blue jeans and a faded tee shirt. Petunia recoiled when she noticed that Lily's face was streaked with dark smudges as if she had been mucking around in a chimney flue.

She was wiping at her companion's face, trying to remove the matching sooty stains from his cheeks. He was a few inches taller than she was, with long black hair that he allowed to hang loosely around his shoulders rather than tie neatly back or, even better, trimmed to a reasonable length. His clothes were pressed but ill-fitting, and he was wearing brown shoes with black pants. Petunia tried to be charitable and to note that he had made an effort to dress appropriately, but so far this Sirius had failed to impress.

"I can't believe that Sev's folks let us use their fireplace!" the young man commented. "They don't know that you and-"

"No," hissed Lily, "and you won't say a word or you'll have to take the Knight Bus back."

"At least then I could go back to wearing my robes," Sirius complained. "Remind me to never again borrow Muggle clothes, or any clothes really, from Cousin Andromeda's husband."

Petunia shut her window, straightened her collar in the mirror, and descended the stairs. Her parents were in the living room, chatting with great animation about their younger daughter's impending visit. "They should be here any moment," Petunia announced just as there was a knock at the front door.

"That was just like magic!" chortled her father. Petunia's nose wrinkled in distaste. _And so, it begins_ , she thought glumly.

Mrs. Evans opened the door to face a grinning Lily. "I'm home!" the younger Evans daughter announced in a sing-song voice as her mother pulled her into a bear hug.

This left Lily's companion standing awkwardly on the front stoop. Petunia noticed that Lily had managed to get most of the smudges off of his face, though a smoky odor lingered on his clothes. He was also quite handsome, which disappointed Petunia, who preferred plain-looking gentlemen who were less likely to put on airs.

"And you must be Sirius!" boomed Mr. Evans. He thrust out his hand, and Sirius shook it for an appropriate amount of time. "This is my less magical but perfectly practical daughter, Petunia," continued her father, gently shoving her forward by the shoulders. She mechanically stuck out her hand, and Sirius dutifully shook it as well.

Mrs. Evans released her daughter and gestured at the large couch at the far end of the living room. "Lily, Petunia, Sirius, please have a seat. Mr. Evans and I will be right back with some tea." The older couple retreated to the kitchen, their excited whispers trailing behind them.

Lily plopped right in the middle of the couch and patted the seats on either side of her. "Petunia, you sit to my left, and Sirius to my right. Let's get to know each other before your date!"

Sirius nodded stiffly at Petunia and sat down where indicated. Petunia joined a moment later. There was silence for a few heartbeats.

"Sirius, didn't you bring something for Tuney?" Lily hinted.

"Oh, yeah," murmured the young man, rummaging through the pockets of his jacket. "Lily mentioned that chocolates are traditional so … ah-hah!" He pulled a small jewel-toned container from one of the pockets. "I got this for you last weekend." He unceremoniously shoved the candy box toward Petunia, who took it gingerly.

"Thank you," she replied. She wasn't a huge fan of sweets, but she would take one bite to show her gratitude for the gift. She opened the pentagonal box, only to have something inside fling itself towards her nose.

She shrieked and covered her face with her hands to protect herself. The box fell to the floor, and a soft "ribbit" emitted from inside it.

Lily let out an unmistakeable titter which she attempted to cover with a cough. Petunia turned her glare to Sirius, who looked confused.

"It's just a chocolate frog," declared Sirius, as if this explained everything. He grabbed the creature as it scooted out from under its cardboard prison. Holding it by its back legs, he took a big bite of its head and showed the remains to Petunia. "See, nothing but chocolate."

Petunia looked on in revulsion as her breakfast threatened to make a return appearance. She had no love of amphibians, but biting one in half was just brutal. "How could you do that to a poor creature?" she shrieked.

"Creature?" Sirius blinked in surprise. "It's not a creature, it's a candy. It's just spelled to act like a frog. Don't Muggle frogs leap too?"

"I don't know anything about any particular breed of frogs called 'muh-gull', but I do know that I would never eat one that was still wriggling! Why in the world would you think that was remotely appropriate?"

"Well, er," Sirius scratched his head in bemusement, "it's just, you know, everyone …" He trailed off, then brightened and reached for the box. "They come with cards! See here, you managed to get Albus Dumbledore!"

Having interacted with Dumbledore by post several years earlier, Petunia had no real desire to look at his photo, but Sirius would not be deterred and shoved an embossed card in her face. She briefly saw the outline of a bearded old man, but when she blinked it was gone. It reminded her of the fancy hologram she had seen in a World Book Encyclopedia a few years earlier. Probably some reprobate had stolen the technology and mass produced it for Lily's kind. Typical.

A blush rose to her neck and cheeks at the indignity of the situation. Her fingers reached for the card almost of their own accord, aching to tear it into tiny pieces to vent her ire. With a lifetime of practice interpreting her sister's moods, Lily anticipated the movement. Jumping to her feet, she grabbed her sister's outstretched hands.

"Tuney, dear," she suggested, "you look a little flushed. Perhaps you could go splash some water on your face?"

Petunia took a deep breath and nodded. A few moments to collect herself would be good. It would give her a chance to come up with a calm explanation of why this excursion was doomed from the beginning. She walked to the loo and closed the door behind her. Snippets of the conversation in her wake still reached her keen ears.

"I told you to get non-magical chocolates!" Lily hissed.

"I thought I did!" replied a nonplussed Sirius. "I didn't get Acid Pops or Fizzing Whizzbees! Those are the ones that have effects on the person who eats them."

"You dopey git," Lily sighed. "Magic that affects the candy itself is still magic."

Not wanting to drip on her dress, Petunia dampened a washcloth and dabbed at her cheeks. Clearly, this had been a mistake. She would not make a scene. She would just return to the living room and calmly explain what should be clear to everyone, that they were simply from two worlds too different to make any kind of above-the-board interaction possible. Everyone would understand, it would be an amiable-

There was a gentle knock on the door. "Tuney?" sang Lily softly. "Can I come in?"

Petunia checked herself in the mirror to make sure she was presentable and then opened the door. She crossed her arms and regarded her younger sister warily. "Lily, I won't-"

Lily pushed her way into the loo and closed the door behind herself. "Wait, please hang on a second. Don't blame Sirius, this is my fault."

Petunia raised one eyebrow in disbelief. "Really, so it was bollocks when he said he bought it for me?"

"Well, no," Lily admitted, "He did purchase it at Honeydukes. But I was the one who forgot to remind him what was appropriate for a Mug- for a first date."

"In what world are animated, animalistic candies appropriate?" Petunia leveled a suspicious look at her sister and added, "You've never eaten one of those macabre things, have you?"

"Who, me?" Lily's eyes widened, though Petunia couldn't tell if it was in surprise or embarrassment. "Anyway," Lily continued quickly, "the point is, I'm asking if you would please give Sirius another chance."

Petunia shook her head, "I really don't think that-"

Lily clasped her hands together. "Please, please, for me! Don't let one thoughtless moment ruin the whole afternoon!"

Petunia pinned her sister with a stern look. "Why are you so insistent that I go out with this … this boy?"

Lily sighed. "I told you that Sirius's family recently disowned him. What I didn't mention is why. It's because he respects folks like me who don't come from magical bloodlines."

Petunia was puzzled. "You're saying that his kin don't like anyone with normal relatives?"

Lily nodded. "Most folks aren't prejudiced like that, of course, but Sirius comes from one of the most closed-minded clans. And because he is friends with people like me, his parents cast him out."

Petunia forgot her disdain for Lily's magic and was consumed with the righteous fury of an older sister defending her younger's honor. Their family was perfectly respectable, and no stuck-up conjurers were going to say otherwise!

"I thought it would be good for him to get out of the magical world," Lily continued, "where everyone knows his lineage, and interact with people who could appreciate him for himself." Lily looked down at the floor and added, "And I thought that maybe if you met another wizard, you might think of me as a little less of a 'freak.'"

Petunia winced a little at the reminder of the term she had hurled at her sister several times. She wouldn't apologize for using it, as it was an accurate description of the unnatural powers Lily practiced. Still, perhaps it had been overly harsh for her sister's soft-heartedness.

With a heavy sigh, Petunia said in a resigned tone of voice, "All right. I'll give this afternoon another chance."

Instantly Lily's arms were around Petunia's neck. "Thank you, Tuney!" Lily warbled into the hug. Petunia awkwardly patted Lily's back until the younger sister disengaged from the elder. "Okay, let's get this party started!" Lily added, grabbing Petunia's hand and half-dragging her back to the parlor.

They returned to see Sirius showing Mr. and Mrs. Evans the trading card from the ill-fated chocolate frog. Mr. Evans waved to his daughters. "Petunia, you should come see this remarkable thing! Well, when he comes back, anyway."

"When who comes back?" asked Petunia in confusion. "Sirius is already standing next to you."

"That's okay!" said Lily a little too brightly. "Dad, Mum, we shouldn't keep these two from their adventure. Let's send them on their way and then we can catch up!"

Lily seemed determined to make sure the rest of the rendezvous proceeded smoothly. She had set up a schedule for the afternoon so well planned that Petunia nearly beamed with pride. Sirius would take Petunia to the matinee at the discount movie theatre closer to downtown, where they would arrive approximately ten minutes before showtime to secure appropriate seats. The movie would last 105 minutes, and then they could visit any one of a number of casual eateries on the way back. The restaurants didn't take reservations but there was almost never a wait so they could have a leisurely meal of an hour or so before returning to the Evans' house.

Petunia and Sirius set out in the direction of the theatre. Petunia was still upset enough that she couldn't think of any safe topics on which to converse. Fortunately, Sirius happened upon one.

"So Lily is your younger sister? Any other siblings?"

He certainly already knew the answer from Lily, but Petunia appreciated it as a harmless line of questioning. "Just Lily and me. Zero population growth or some codswallop like that. Besides," she added with aspersion, "Lily has always been the apple of their eye, no other child could compete."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "My word, does that sound familiar! My folks have always been so proud of my younger brother, Regulus. He takes after them in nearly every way."

"Is your brother a…" Petunia hesitated. "Do you go to the same school?"

Sirius nodded. "Yes, but we're in different years and even different houses, so we don't see each other much. That is definitely for the best. We don't really get along."

Petunia felt a bit of kinship grow between her and her date. "I can see that! It was almost a relief when Lily went away to your school. I could be myself and not worry about the inevitable comparisons. Plus, we used to fight like cats and dogs..." She recounted a years-old memory involving a stolen diary, and Sirius laughed at the appropriate spots in the story.

Before she knew it, the duo had reached the theatre. The marquee announced a special "blast from the past" feature: _The Shaggy Dog._

"Have you seen this film before?" asked Petunia. As she turned toward Sirius she noticed that the blood had drained from his face. "Or, have you ever seen a movie?" she added politely. "It's short for 'moving picture,' and-"

"That's not it," murmured Sirius. "I didn't think Lily knew…" He trailed off, staring dumbly at the sign for a moment. Then he shook his head and added _sotto voce_ , "Just a coincidence. Has to be."

Sirius suddenly strode forward toward the counter. Petunia hurried to keep up. Sirius held up his index and middle fingers and announced, "Two, please." As the cashier stated the total, Sirius dug through his pockets. He pulled out a handful of random coins and stared at them, frowning in concentration. Petunia realized it was as if he were unfamiliar with currency! But his accent was purely British, so how could he not know what to pay? She stared at his lips, which moved silently as he counted. Just before her embarrassment led her to pluck the appropriate total from his fingers, Sirius handed the correct amount to the now-bored worker.

Taking the proffered tickets from the cashier, Sirius handed one wordlessly to Petunia and the two walked into the single hall within the building which was nearly empty. She was still silently fuming about his ineptitude with his cash but followed him as he walked down the aisle. He stopped halfway down, gestured to the row in front of him, and asked, "Would you be okay with sitting here?"

They were actually the seats Petunia most preferred. The center seats in the middle row were the most perfectly average, and thus, the most perfect seats in the theatre. She was pleased by his suggestion and nodded at him as they walked into the middle of the row and sat down.

Only a few moments of awkward silence later, the lights dimmed and the feature began. Petunia found the children's film to be a little beneath her, but at least it was appropriately wholesome. No smut or bad language to mar the afternoon, thank goodness. Sirius seemed genuinely interested in the story. Petunia reminded herself that this was likely his first movie, so it would naturally be fascinating to him. He had enough sense not to talk during the feature which was a plus in his favor.

When the movie ended, the pair exited the theatre and paused until their eyes adjusted to the daylight again. After blinking a few times, they began walking toward the collection of restaurants that Lily had suggested. Petunia wondered if she would have to school Sirius on propriety if he tried to hold her hand, but he was a perfect gentleman and didn't even try. In fact, he seemed too deep in thought to even consider it. Why was he so pensive about a children's film? Petunia remembered where he was from and broke the silence with, "How did you like your first moving picture?"

The question snapped Sirius out of his reverie. "Oh, it was … enjoyable, I suppose. I was quite interested in the story of a man who turns into a dog." He cast an earnest glance toward Petunia. "What did you think of the plot?"

"Well, family-friendly movies are always preferable to some of the modern garbage," she mused. "In general, though, I prefer domestic films to American. I also like movies grounded in reality, not fantasy."

"Grounded in reality, hm?" murmured Sirius.

"You know, fanciful inventions like people turning into animals." Petunia paused, thinking again about his world, and asked hesitantly, "I mean, you've never done anything like that, right?"

"Who, me?" replied Sirius with a chuckle that sounded a bit strained. "Hah! I don't know what you've heard, but that would be barmy! Me turning into a dog, I mean. Hah!"

"Oh, of course not," Petunia reassured him. "That was a silly question on my part." She realized that with his background, he almost certainly was asked ridiculous things like that all the time. It was probably a sore spot because he had to deny such notions so often. She felt herself warming to him, and vowed to avoid asking even rhetorical queries about the fantastical.

"I was thinking," added Sirius in a cheery voice, "I could really go for some fish and chips. Is that something that you enjoy as well that we could find around here?"

Petunia nodded, turned to her left, and pointed to a small shop. "They have good food but a terrible name."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter at the sign above the door reading, _It Haddock Be You_. "So long as the puns smell worse than the provisions, we'll be alright!" He cheekily offered her his right arm with the elbow bent, as if they were heading to a grand ball. Petunia couldn't help but grin back at him as she placed her hand under his arm and curled it back over.

Petunia and Sirius took seats on opposite sides of a small booth in front of a large window. The waitress, a young black woman with two meatball-sized hair puffs and a nametag reading "Robyn," handed them each a small menu and left them to decide on their orders.

"Is this something that … _students_ like you and Lily do often up at your school?" asked Petunia politely.

Sirius bobbed his head thoughtfully. "We don't go every weekend or anything, but we do sometimes get out to Hogsmeade. We can hang out at tea shops and the like." He gestured out the window where a sedan was passing a double-decker. "But we don't have automobiles there so that's a new experience."

Petunia blinked. "No cars or busses? Does everyone still use horse-drawn carriages there?"

Sirius grinned a little ruefully, and Petunia noticed for the first time that he had a small dimple on his right cheek. "Among other contraptions," he acknowledged, "plus old-fashioned walking."

Robyn returned with two glasses of water that she placed in front of each of them. She pulled a pad of paper from her apron pocket and a pencil from behind her right ear. She looked at the couple expectantly.

Petunia scanned the available entrees, then said, "I would like the four-ounce breaded fishcake, no chips, sauce on the side, please."

Robyn noted this with a few strokes of her pencil, then turned to Sirius and asked, "And you, chap?"

Sirius, still smiling, asked in a jovial tone, "What does your house elf recommend?"

Robyn paused mid-scribble. "Our what, now?"

Petunia stared at Sirius in growing horror. She wasn't sure what a house elf was, but it definitely sounded suspicious. Thinking quickly, she forced a light laugh and said, "Oh, I sometimes forget he was raised across the pond and pronounces some phrases so differently! He asked what your chef's special is today."

A slight wrinkle between her eyebrows the only sign of her confusion, Robyn replied, "I don't know that we have anything so posh. I know my favorite is the fresh plaice with a side of chips and cheese."

"That sounds wonderful!" chirped Petunia in a falsetto. "That's what you would like to order, right?" she asked Sirius pointedly. Bemused, Sirius nodded mutely. Robyn made a few more scratches on her pad and headed back to the kitchen.

Petunia covered her face with her hands and hissed, "I can't believe you did that!"

"Oh, come on," scoffed Sirius. "It was an accident. I forgot a Muggle shop wouldn't have any elves."

Petunia winced as if Sirius had just uttered a cuss word. "Stop saying that! We are among decent people!"

" _Decent_?" Sirius looked confused for a moment, then realization dawned on him and he shot her a glare. "What, are you saying wizards are _in_ decent?"

"In the real world? Yes," whispered Petunia. "Lily said you wanted to learn how we normal people interact."

"Oh, is that what she told you?" Sirius snorted. "She told _me_ that you were jealous of her magic and she wanted _me_ to show you that witches are people too!" His nostrils flared as he bit off the final words.

Petunia was so angry she felt tears rise in her eyes. "I thought you wanted to better yourself. I see now that I was mistaken about you. You're no better than that Snape boy. Once a freak, always a freak."

"Don't you _dare_ compare me to that greaseball!" snapped Sirius. "That just proves how mental you are. House elves, animages, even dementors are a part of our lives. How can you hate everything about your sister's world? You haven't asked me a single question about how she's doing, what classmates think of her, anything!"

The two stared daggers at each other as Robyn approached their table laden with fragrant dishes. She was unfazed at the obvious tension, adding breezily, "Just holler if you need me." She whistled tunelessly as she turned tail and headed to the back of the shop, as far away from the near-combatants as possible.

Petunia pushed her plate away from herself and announced, "I'm not hungry. I want to go home."

"Fine by me," snapped Sirius, throwing a surprisingly large wad of bills on the table. He grabbed a fistful of the greasy potato spears from his aborted meal, shoving them all in his maw at once. He chewed open-mouthed in a disgusting fashion, displaying teeth and bits of chip. Petunia was forcefully reminded of a German shepherd she once saw attack and devour a young rabbit.

The two of them stomped out of the shop and sped back to the Evans' house in silence, refusing to look at each other. Sirius kept worrying with something in his pocket. Petunia hazarded a brief glance and it looked like he was rubbing a polished wooden dowel. How uncouth!

Their angry pace meant the return trip was much faster. Petunia sprinted the last few steps to her front doorway to beat her former date. She ran inside without a word to Lily or her parents, then fled up the stairs to her bedroom, forcefully slamming her door.

She heard her father's heavy footsteps start to ascend the staircase after her, stopping as her mother's voice called, "Dear, leave her be for a bit. Sometimes a girl needs to be alone after an unfortunate date."

"Unfortunate" was an understatement. Why had Petunia even entertained the idea of spending time with one of those freaks? Why had her sister claimed she was envious of their unnatural proclivities? Why had her own parents pressured her to debase herself by socializing with one of Lily's kind?

"What did you do?" Lily's voice wafted up from the parlor below.

"Me?" replied Sirius indignantly. "I mentioned a house elf once and she went off the deep end. It was like I'd used the slur for Muggle-born!"

Petunia tuned them out. She decided it was time she stepped out on her own. She needed to leave her childhood home with her freakish sister and her overly permissive parents. Burrowing into her closet, she found an old shoe box containing a pair of wholly unattractive gym shoes from her secondary school physical education classes. Balled neatly in the toe of the left sneaker was Petunia's emergency savings.

Counting it out, she decided that it was just enough to pursue her plan: Purchase a bus ticket to London. Share a flat with a former schoolmate of hers with whom she kept in touch and who she knew had a spare bedroom. Pursue the first typing course she could find. She found a satchel and began packing her best and most conservative clothing. Perhaps there she could meet a wonderfully unmagical man who could provide her with the normalcy she realized would never be hers in Cokeworth.


End file.
